It really is too bad he’s the bane of my existence and all.
Magnus inserts the key into the lock and the tomb’s heavy marble door creeks open on rusty hinges. We step inside and the musty smell immediately takes over my senses. I start to sneeze.
When I do, my vampire guide doesn’t say bless you, and at first I contemplate berating him for his lack of manners. Then I realize it’s probably too religious for a vampire to say and decide to cut him some slack this time. (Though he could have at least ventured a Gesundheit, IMO.)
The door closes behind us and for a moment we’re blanketed by darkness. O-kay. Kind of freaky. I’m now standing in an actual tomb, in pitch darkness, with only a vampire to keep me company. Last week if you’d sworn on a stack of Bibles that I’d be okay with all of this, I wouldn’t have believed you.
Magnus feels around for my hand and then, finding it, latches on and leads me into the darkness. And yes, regrettably, I must admit that his touch sends an unwilling chill up my spine.
Thanks a lot, body. Betray your owner much?
“Watch the stairs,” he says as we step down. Are we going underground? Curiouser and curiouser, as Alice in Wonderland would say.
We descend. Step after step after step. How deep are we going? It feels like I’m walking down the Empire State Building or something. They should install elevators in this place. What if they turned a handicapped person into a vampire? Talk about your discrimination lawsuit waiting to happen.
“You all right?” Magnus asks softly, his husky British accent cutting through the darkness.
“Yeah,” I whisper back. “I’m good.”
Okay, fine. I admit it. The situation is kind of intimate and I’m sort of turned on. I mean, no matter how annoying Magnus is, he’s also indescribably hot. And having an indescribably hot guy holding my hand and leading me blindly through the darkness is sort of sexy in a very weird way.
Gah! I can’t believe I just admitted that! When I’m done with this vampire nonsense, I’ve so got to get my head examined. After all, I do not think of Magnus in that way. I think of Jake Wilder, my prom date, in that way. Jake Wilder only. Not Magnus. Definitely not Magnus.
After half an eternity, we finally reach the end of the never-ending stairs and I can hear Magnus pressing some computerized buttons. Like a key code or something. This vampire place has major security.
A door slides silently open and we step over the threshold.
Into complete luxury.
I gasp as my eyes become accustomed to the dim light and I see what we’ve walked into. It’s like a mansion. An underground mansion. With cathedral ceilings, floors made of marble, and the most elegant furnishings I’ve ever seen. I can see why they need Fort Knox-like security down here. It’s a tomb raider’s dream come true. Lara Croft would have a field day.
“Holy hot spot, Batman,” I whisper.
Magnus grins. “Impressive, no? We vampires like our little creature comforts.”
I scan the room, taking in the velvet antique couches and gold-accented lamps. The Da Vinci paintings and crystal chandeliers. This place is like Buckingham Palace. If not more luxurious.
“Guess you guys aren’t putting any strain on the welfare system, at least.”
“When you live thousands of years, your investments tend to mature and pay off nicely.”
“Evidently.” Rayne sure wasn’t kidding when she said riches greater than your wildest imagination. Maybe this being a vampire thing isn’t as bad as I thought. First, you have hot guys throwing themselves at you, then you have enough cash to buy every shoe Marc Jacobs ever made.
Pretty sweet. Too bad there’s also the whole blood-drinking and no-going-out-in-the-sun side effects. Otherwise, I’d definitely have to reconsider this whole thing.
“Come on,” Magnus says, interrupting my musings. “Lucifent is expecting us.”
8
Lucifent—King of Vamps and Major Cutie Pie
I follow Magnus across the empty hall, wondering where the other vampires are hiding. Or feeding. Gulp. The thought makes me walk faster to catch up to his long strides.
We head down a long corridor, flanked by dim lamps. Nothing in the place is particularly bright, I notice. Probably hard on the vamps’ eyes.
At the end of the hall, we enter a lobby where a thin, blond woman sits behind a desk, filing her nails and looking bored. She looks like someone I know, but I can’t seem to place her.
“Hi, Marcia,” Magnus says, addressing her politely.
That’s it! She looks like Marcia Brady from the The Brady Bunch. Heh.
Marcia looks up, her eyes widening in delight as they fall on Magnus. “Oh, Magnus!” she cries, her voice high and flirty and American. “It’s sooo great to see you! It’s been way too long, my darling.”
Hmm. Guess this guy’s not only hot stuff to us mortals. He’s got vamp groupies as well. Go figure. I squash a brief pang of jealousy. Which is ridiculous. After all, blood mate or not, I so don’t want to have anything to do with Magnus after we get this vampire thing sorted out. So if Marcia wants him, he’s all hers, far as I’m concerned.
I tune back in to the conversation.
“It’s lovely to see you as well, Marcia darling,” Magnus says in his deep, baritone voice. “How have you been?”
The vampire secretary blushes furiously. Man, she’s got it bad! Marcia, Marcia, Marcia! “Very well, thank you,” she says and then giggles.
This is all making me feel like I want to hurl.
“Uh, hello?” I interject, to stave off the nauseated feeling. “I don’t have all night.”
Marcia shoots me an evil glare. “Who is this?” she asks, haughtily. “Another recruit? We are going bottom-of-the-barrel these days, aren’t we?”
“Excuse me?” I say, raising an eyebrow. “Would you mind repeating that?” Vampire or no, I’m so not taking this bitch’s attitude.
“Ladies, please,” Magnus says, looking pained. “Marcia, we’re here to speak with Lucifent. Is he ready to see us?”
Marcia shoots me one last glare, then sulkily presses an intercom button on her phone. “Your eight o’clock is here,” she mutters.
“Send them in.”
She nods her head toward the ornate mahogany door behind her. “He’s all yours.”
I follow Magnus as he opens the door and heads into the rear office, stopping only for a moment to stick my tongue out at Marcia. Childish, I know, but oh so satisfying.
The bee-yotch flips me the bird.
Lucifent’s office turns out to be as deluxe as the rest of the underground coven. The only thing missing is windows. I’d hate the no-windows thing, were I to become a permanent vamp. Though the Picassos on the wall might make up for their absence somewhat. The floors are made of gleaming hardwood and a giant mahogany desk lies in the center of the room.
Behind the desk sits Haley Joel Osment, the little kid from that creepy Sixth Sense movie.
Okay, maybe it’s not Haley Joel himself. But this kid looks a lot like him—has the whole blond hair, wide eyes thing going on. Definitely a cutie pie. Must be Lucifent’s kid or something. I mean, who knows, maybe it’s Take Your Son to Work Day on the vampire calendar.
“Hey you,” I say, crouching down to smile at him. I love children. So sweet and innocent and full of life before age jades them into sullen, sarcastic brats who would sell their own mothers for a nickel bag of pot. “You’re so cute. I bet your daddy is really proud of you. How old are you now?”
“Oh, about three thousand, give or take a hundred,” the kid snarls, his happy baby face morphing into a very pissed-off look. “Magnus,” he rages. “What is the meaning of this?”
Have you ever seen that cartoon Family Guy with that baby, Stewie, who talks like he’s an adult and constantly tries to take over the world? That’s sort of what this kid is reminding me of all of a sudden.
I glance over at Magnus, who looks angry and frightened and nervous all at the same time.
> “I am very sorry, my lord,” he says, bowing low to the kid. “She doesn’t know.”
O-kay then. I’m totally lost here. I really should have read that stupid blog.
Magnus rises from his reverential bow and turns to face me. “Sunny,” he hisses in a tight voice. “This is Lord Lucifent, leader of the Blood Coven. High priest of the eastern vampire conglomerate of the United States of America.”
I raise an eyebrow and glance over at the kid sitting behind the enormous desk. “Haley Joel Osment here is your fearless leader?” I start to laugh. I can’t help it. It’s just so funny to think of this little Dennis the Menace look-alike as the leader of the vampires. Soon I’m laughing so hard tears are falling down my cheeks. This is who everyone is scared of? The almighty Lucifent? I can barely resist the urge to go over and pinch the little rascal’s cheeks.
“Can you please shut her up?” Lucifent demands in an adorable squeaky little-boy voice. Heh. He looks positively livid. So does Magnus for that matter.
“Sunny, listen to me,” Magnus says in a snarly voice. A voice way more intimidating than little Lucifent’s. “Unless you are happy with the idea of remaining a vampire for the rest of your life, I suggest you stop laughing this instant.”
Oh. Okay, if you put it that way . . . I swallow back my giggles and adopt my most serious expression. “Sorry,” I mutter.
“Now bow to Lucifent,” Magnus hisses from the corner of his mouth. “And pay your respects to our lord.”
Oh, jeez Louise! But I guess, whatever it takes, right? I drop a little curtsy, feeling somewhat ridiculous.
“Who is this ignorant woman, Magnus, and why have you brought her to me?” demands Lucifent. “I am appalled by this show of disrespect.”
Magnus shuffles from foot to foot. “Well, you see, sir, there’s been, a, um . . .”
“Case of mistaken identity,” I state, figuring he needs some help spitting it out.
Magnus shoots me a tortured glare, not looking at all grateful for my assistance in explaining the situation. Wow, he seems really nervous. And he’s usually so confident. Arrogant even. This Lucifent guy, cute kid or no, must be real powerful in vamp circles. He’s like a mafia Godfather or something.
“What do you mean, case of mistaken identity?” Luficent questions in a tight voice.
“Well, th-this is Sunshine McDonald,” Magnus says, gesturing to me. “And she has a, um, identical twin sister named Rayne.”
“And I care about their family tree, why?”
Magnus swallows hard. “Her twin went through all the training. She was assigned to me as my blood mate.”
“And?” Lucifent’s face has gone quite pink. I think he’s finally getting the gist of what Magnus is saying. For king of the vampires, he comes off a bit slow, if you ask me.
“And I bit the wrong twin.” Magnus admits, dropping his eyes to the floor, his face blazing red with embarrassment.
“You what?” Lucifent cries, even angrier now than he was at my laughing. Magnus flinches as if he’s been struck. “You bit the wrong person? Someone who didn’t sign a release? Who didn’t get tested first? Who didn’t go through the training?” He slams a tiny fist against the desk and I stifle another giggle. I can’t help it, he’s just so darn cute. “How could you, Magnus? You worthless bag of bones! You’re useless! Why, I should have left you to rot in that Moorish prison. I gave you eternal life. Riches beyond belief. Power beyond a mortal’s imagination. And this is how you repay me?”
Magnus looks like he wants to crawl under the desk and die. I almost feel bad for him. I mean, hey, I don’t like that he screwed this up as much as the next guy, probably more even, seeing as it directly affects me and my life. But still, we all make mistakes. No need for this verbal bashing. I wonder if vampires have unions. Magnus could so report this guy.
“Look, dude, it’s really not Magnus’s fault,” I butt in, attempting to defuse some of Lucifent’s rage. He definitely has major anger management issues he needs to deal with. “I mean, Rayne and I look exactly identical. Even our mom can’t tell us apart.”
“Shut up, human,” Lucifent snarls. Evidently he didn’t rise to king of the vampires on the basis of his charm alone.
“I am sorry, my lord,” Magnus says, bowing low. “I know I made a terrible mistake. And I’m willing to pay the price.”
“That’s good of you. Because you will pay, for certain,” Lucifent agrees with a self-satisfied smirk. As if he’s enjoying Magnus’s distress. Loser. “You will pay well.”
“You know, assigning blame’s all fine and good,” I interrupt. “But we need to move on here and get more solution oriented. In six days, I’m told I’ll be changing into a vampire, unless this whole thing is reversed. So I’m here to find out how the whole reversal thing works. Tell me that, and I’ll be on my merry way.”
“Anything for that to happen,” mutters Lucifent. “Very well, then. I will tell you what you must do.”
9
Bertha the Vampire Slayer
“So there is a way?” I ask, trying not to get too excited. “The transformation can be reversed?”
Lucifent nods. “Indeed,” he says. “It’s simple, really. All you have to do is—”
Suddenly, milliseconds before he can spit out the knowledge that will save me from eternal damnation, warning sirens start going off. They sound like something you’d hear on a Star Trek episode, moments before the Enterprise self-destructs. Or after Homer Simpson does something stupid yet again at the Springfield nuclear power plant.
“The perimeter has been breached,” a robotic female voice announces, her tone oddly calm and computerized, given her message. “The Slayer has entered the building.”
Lucifent utters a curse that no Haley Joel look-alike should ever utter, as it’s quite disconcerting to anyone in the vicinity. Then he leaps from his desk, his eyes wide with fright.
“We’ve got to get to the safe room!” he cries, running toward the door.
“Wait,” I call, struggling to be heard over the chaos. “What about turning me back to a human?”
“Later!” Magnus says, sounding just as panicked as he grabs my arm and hustles me toward the door. “We’ve got to hide from Bertha.”
“Bertha?”
“Yes, Bertha,” he repeats impatiently, dragging me out of the office. “Bertha the Vampire Slayer.”
Hmm. Doesn’t have the same ring to it as her TV counterpart. But okay, whatever.
I follow Magnus down the ornate hallway, quickly catching up to and then passing Lucifent, whose little legs can’t take big strides like ours.
“Hurry, Master,” Magnus begs.
“The Slayer has entered the sanctuary,” the female computer announces, helpfully.
“Phew.” Magnus stops running, allowing Lucifent to catch up. “She’s on the other side of the compound. It’ll take her at least ten minutes to get over here.”
Lucifent nods. “We should still get to the—”
“The Slayer has entered the east hallway.”
Hmm. Either the Slayer is superfast or there’s been some kind of glitch in the Matrix. ’Cause suddenly, a woman drops down from a grate in the ceiling, effectively blocking our path.
She’s dressed in black leather, but don’t get the mistaken impression that she’s at all attractive and sexy in it. Let’s just say Bertha the Vampire Slayer has evidently been hitting the drive-through a few too many times on her dinner break. And leather sure isn’t very forgiving when it comes to super sizing your French fries. Especially tight, low-rise leather pants that allow her stomach fat to ooze out her front. Add a greasy zit-face and the stringy blond hair and you’ll get a good mental picture of what this “Slayer” looks like.
I think I prefer Sarah Michelle Gellar.
“Lucifent,” she snarls, raising her wooden stake. Wow, she’s got braces too. I can’t believe the mortal enemy of all vampires goes to an orthodontist. “Prepare to die.”
Then, without further
ado and quicker than my eyes can follow, Bertha back-handsprings down the hallway, flabby flesh flopping around like a fish out of water. For someone so anorexically challenged, the girl can really move!
Then she stakes Lucifent in the heart.
There’s no dramatic fight scene. No exchange of clever banter. Just stakeage. And dustage. And no more Lucifentage.
I stare in horror as the one guy who knows how to stop me from changing into a vampire goes up in a pile of smoke.
But before I can mourn this fact properly, Big Bertha turns to us with an evil-looking metal-mouthed grin and I realize we may have bigger problems on our hands.
Crap.
“Run!” Magnus cries.
I don’t need a second invitation.
We dash down the hall, Bertha hot on our heels. Magnus yanks me into a side chamber and slams the door shut, jamming a chair under the handle. My heart slams against my rib cage as I watch him run to the bookcase on the far side of the room and start scanning it with his eyes.
What is he doing?
I can hear Bertha pounding on the door.
“This is no time for book club!” I exclaim.
Magnus ignores me and pulls out a large, dusty tome from the shelf. Suddenly the bookshelf swings open, revealing a secret passageway leading off into the darkness.
Oh. My bad.
“Hurry,” he hisses.
Behind us, Bertha’s now hacking at the door with what sounds like an axe. Which is weird ’cause she didn’t have an axe on her, just a stake. But I’m not going to ask questions.
I follow Magnus down into the dark tunnel and the bookshelf swings shut, blanketing us in complete darkness. The vampire grabs hold of my hand and starts dragging me down the stairs.
I can’t see a thing and my heart is still pounding in my chest. I can’t believe that slayer chick just dusted the three-thousand-year-old leader of the vampires in one fell swoop. Dusted him seconds before he could tell me how to avoid becoming a three-thousand-year-old vampire myself.